Devil On The Dance Floor
by Tatsumaki-sama
Summary: Normally, one might not attribute the word "dance" to Roronoa Zoro. Luffy begs to differ.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own One Piece or any of its characters.

**Devil On The Dance Floor   
**

It was by accident, a casual fluke, one born of ignorance and curiosity. Luffy had never devised to see it nor did he expected it to happen. He was just passing by Nami's tangerine trees, hoping to steal a few when neither her or Sanji were looking, when he witnessed it, perhaps the first person to behold such a sight.

Roronoa Zoro was dancing.

One did not associate such a feminine word with the swordsman - except maybe Sanji in his insults. However, it was not a dance that someone, anyone would expect. It was a deadly promenade, quick and silent, sweat scattering through the air as Zoro _moved_. There was no control, no plan, no direction. He simply let his body do as it pleased, gliding lithely where he stood, taking one, two steps, veering carefully to the right or left, arms outstretched, feet slow and with purpose. Metal flashed down, purring resonantly to the air before it swept downwards, sideways, upwards in a curve, a glare of light following after it. It was so effortless and graceful, Zoro no longer appeared to be human.

He began with one sword, slow and steady. His body swayed as the sword did, both in perfect harmony. He was the sword and the sword was him. They were one and separate. Intertwined so closely that it was hard to tell them apart. Arms and legs shifted unhurriedly, content to take their time. There was no need to rush. He had all the time in the world. His muscles tensed and slackened rhythmically. The ruffles on his shirt crinkled and smoothed out again and again, trailing after Zoro's actions, like the crystal-blue ocean waves rising and falling. His hair shimmered in the late morning gleam, in reminiscence to blades of emerald grass being tickled placidly by a quiet breeze somewhere on a lazy afternoon. This minuet was utterly relaxing and peaceful. Luffy caught himself humming along with the sword's hushed melody, submerged in the irresistibly enticing tranquility.

Then, without Luffy realizing it, there were now two swords in Zoro's hands. The dance had suddenly become faster. Gone were the serene motions. They were now sudden, quick and fervent. It was a whirlwind of emotions and something else, spreading and appearing so quickly there was no time for the mind to comprehend them all at once. The swords spun, jabbed, slashed, whooshed and quivered, as if they had a mind, a life, a soul of their own, independent of their master's thoughts, even though Zoro was fully in control of them. He was their puppet master, their giver of life, their storyteller. Even now, he was telling of their story, speaking reverently of it, writing it down on the traces of clouds and sky.

Within an inch of a second, Zoro tossed the white-sheathed sword up in the air. In the same time, he pulled out his last sword in a fluid movement and caught the flying sword in his mouth, all three swords gleaming and singing joyously, ready to finish its final dance with the grand performance of the one-of-a-kind style, the Santoryu. He moved so nimbly, too swiftly, his motions obscured, swords only a blur and a vague glimmer. His feet shifted deliriously and recklessly, wild yet controlled. He was Movement. He was Joy. He was Rage. He was Despair. He was Laughter. He was Tears. He was Silence. He was Music. He was Imprisonment. He was Freedom. For that inch of an eternal moment, Zoro was everything and nothing, a little of something and much of anything.

The longer Luffy watched, the more he was entranced by this - this completely amazing waltz that was too perfect, too majestic to be called a dance. Even from his hiding spot, he could feel the cutting edge of the swords vibrating in his direction, the air trembling with sudden might and authority, a breath of cool and warm air at his face. Now that he thought about it, Luffy had not seen Zoro fight, had not seen Zoro at his fullest potential, had not seen what Zoro was capable of. For if he had, he would not be gawking like an idiot right now.

The precision of the swords and his strength must be exact and careful. If Zoro was a hint too hard and careless with them, the swords would easily cut the ship in half. Not only will there be many upset crew mates, it would mean that he had failed as a swordsman to bring forth the complete mastery of his swords, to bend the swords to his every obedience and command. From his crushing defeat at the hands of Mihawk, he had learned that a swordsman is needed to be gentle with his swords, or otherwise, it would not be as strong as it was meant to be.

Somewhere beyond the ship, a voice called out, strangely distant and muffled. Luffy blinked upon hearing Sanji, alerting him that it was lunchtime, slowly awakening from his daze. However, he did not want to move from his spot, to remove his eyes from such a sight. It tethered on the thin edge of illusion and reality, fragile and intoxicating. One single drop of a second could hold or break it. What seemed like too quickly, though what also seemed like a lifetime later, Zoro paused in his dance, sword and body motionless. He heaved a soft sigh, releasing his breath, muscles loosening, head bowed in meditation. Luffy involuntarily leaned forward, breath held, greedily wanting more, looking on, for Zoro looked too still, as if he had become a statue, carved out of rigid stone or frozen glass.

" How long have you been watching, Luffy?"

He gave a little yelp, unwittingly jumping from his hidden spot and thus, revealing himself to Zoro. He grinned hurriedly, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, at the stern looking Zoro, revealing a row of bright white teeth. After all, a smile is the best possible solution to this kind of problem. " Um ... hi?" he innocently said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Zoro was, like expected, unconvinced. " What was so interesting that you decided to skip lunch?" he dryly asked, sheathing his swords in the same breath, an action that Luffy terribly deplored, even giving a tiny whimper that Zoro missed. The swords clacked in their scabbards, their voices softly dimmed. They still yearned to dance and sing, something Luffy also agreed with.

" Luffy?" Zoro was beginning to look at him curiously, mouth curved in a half frown.

Wakening from his thoughts, he simply replied with a cheerful, very Luffy-ish grin. " MEAT!!!!!!!!!" he shouted, the suddenness of it startling Zoro, as Luffy unexpectedly grabbed his arm and began dragged them both off to the kitchen.

" Wait! Luffy - what -?" the swordsman spluttered as he was helplessly pulled along by his captain.

Truth be told, he wanted to tell Zoro. Tell him how he danced, how he tread lightly on the floor, how he moved so freely, it was almost frightening and ethereal. Wouldn't Zoro be so surprised and amazed that he could do such a thing that no one could possibly do? Then, Sanji would have to take back all those dancing jokes he said about him. But how Zoro managed to do it was a complete mystery to him. But like all other strange and curious mysteries he had come across, he was determined to figure it out.

Maybe after his lunch break.


End file.
